


A Secret Kiss

by orphan_account



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: Angst (but only a bit don't worry), Derry Girls - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, In between-er scene, James x Erin, Kissing, s02e05 The Prom, season 2 spoilers!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 21:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20516762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The more she looked at him, the more she pondered her feelings—and yet she didn’t dare look away. She wanted to kick herself a million times over. Why did she have to have a crush? Why did it have to be now, and why did it have to be James Maguire? And, why, God, why did she have to fall so helplessly in love with him, so bloody fast?...Just a little James x Erin, possibly resulting in a kiss…(Rated T for the few swear words that appear, and because of the fact that DG is an teen-targeted TV show.)





	A Secret Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Derry Girls fic (well, it’s my first fic in general), but nonetheless, I hope you like it. I tried to make it follow as closely as possible to “The Prom” episode, but this is a fill in scene, after all. Enjoy!

“My Ma called, you said?” Erin asked as she and James turned away from the residence road and walked along the main street, arm in arm. It was a cool evening, but not uncomfortable. Erin hadn’t been outside since the afternoon, and the temperature had dropped a couple degrees. But James was warm. He could provide her with heat if she needed it. The sidewalks and street lamps were slick and shiny; it must have rained earlier. Erin didn’t notice—she had been a bit preoccupied with the fact that her date had ditched her. 

James nodded. “Yes—she told me about John Paul. I’m sorry, Erin.” He looked at her sympathetically, and she felt herself blush slightly as she averted her eyes. 

“S’fine,” she replied, even though it was completely and totally _ not _ fine. She had been stood up, and it hurt. But there was another part of her that wasn’t in the least bit surprised. She was Erin Quinn, after all. Things always turned out to be disastrous when it came to her and anything she tried to do. She didn’t know why she thought that maybe, just maybe, this time might have been different. That maybe this time, fate wouldn’t choose her when it struck disaster. All the same, she still had her heart broken. She had been so elated to have been going out with John Paul, to see everyone's faces when she waltzed into the room with him on her arm. To be put down like that...Erin felt the icy sting of anger stab at her heart just thinking about it. 

James must have noticed the way she had grown quiet, the way she turned her head so he could see her, because he gave her arm a light squeeze. 

“He was a foul git, anyway,” James said casually, attempting to cheer her up. Erin turned to look at him, frowning. 

“John Paul is not a ‘git’,” she protested (even though he was), “he just...maybe he had...other plans.” But she knew that wasn’t true. She liked him and he was put-off by her. That was all it was. Making excuses wouldn’t help that fact, no matter how much she wished it would. 

James pursed his lips. Bailing on your date with no explanation which then results in them sitting, hurt, alone at home while their friends danced at a prom? That seemed like a fairly disagreeable thing to do, in his opinion. But he didn’t say that out loud. Erin was upset, and she needed comfort, not brutal honesty. James sighed and loosened the link between their arms. Erin spotted the movement and made a faint noise of protest. James chuckled softly and shifted closer to her. 

“Sorry,” Erin said. “Windy.” 

“That’s alright,” James said as a gentle breeze blew around them. It was starting to rain again, just a slight mist. They walked in sync for a couple moments before Erin shook her head slightly. 

"But seriously: Doctor Who? Out of all of the creep conventions you could have chosen, you chose a Doctor Who one!?" Erin exclaimed with a laugh. 

James rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you: it's not a creep convention! It’s a _ Doctor Who night. _My stepdad and I always watched together. It was a priority to be on the sofa at prime time." He laughed slightly, but it was somewhat restrained. 

Erin smiled. "That's sweet." 

"It was..." James concurred, but there was something sad about his tone. Erin noticed, and her grin faded. 

"I’ve never met your family, and you never talk about them. What are they like?" she asked curiously. 

James bit his lip. "Mum is lovely. She is gorgeous, and she might even be starting her own business at some point. My stepdad is a good man, but I never knew my birth father—I am assuming he was from here, as Mum left for England because of...well..." He trailed off.

Erin held up a hand, her eyes soft. "It's okay. I understand." 

James smiled at her gratefully. She knew that his personal, family life was hard for him to talk about, and she wasn’t going to make him feel uneasy like that. 

"Your Ma sounds nice," Erin said. James nodded, his eyes a bit brighter. "She is, she really is. She has been going through a difficult time lately—I guess that's why she dropped me off here. I miss London sometimes, quite a lot, actually. But...Derry is nice. " 

Erin grunted in agreement. "It is," she said, and she meant it. 

She couldn’t help but smile as she took in the sights of her city. She never took the time to really absorb all of it’s goodness before. Even in the slight rain, Derry still looked beautiful with its spires and old churches, and its colourful residences as well as its ancient streets. It might have been constantly trotted along by British soldiers, and it might have beared the scars of numerous episodes of conflict, but nonetheless, Derry was a glittering jewel in the northwest of Ireland. At least that was always how Erin had perceived it to be. True, Derry was in the middle of a battlefield, but it wasn't as troubled as everyone supposed it was. Looking at it from this view, Erin felt a sense of pride for herself, her home city and her people. 

"Don't tell the others I said this, but..." she leaned into James and whispered in his ear. She didn't know why; they were virtually the only ones out on the road at the moment, besides the occasional tipsy passerby.

"I want to visit London." She whispered shakily in his ear, as though they were sharing some dangerous, confidential secret. She liked the feeling of it, the ‘adrenaline’. 

"You do?" he asked. His voice was filled with overwhelming happiness and hope, maybe even a little bit of surprise. 

Erin nodded, grinning for what was probably the fiftieth time that night. "London is a beautiful city. I’ve wanted to go since I was little; I never understood why my parents would give me funny looks when I told them about it, but I want to see Big Ben! I want to see the Tower of London! We could so see a play on West End, we could—” she cut herself off before she started rambling on like a fangirl. “I just wish...I wish...that we weren't in the middle of a bloody civil war. Our governments may despise each other, but that doesn't mean the people have to." 

James' s eyes widened. "Finally, someone understands!" 

Erin laughed aloud. "Really?!" she exclaimed. 

“Yes! Oh, Erin, you have _ no _ idea how hard it is. Well, you probably do, I mean, I see your side of the conflict here in Derry, but it’s the same in London. But even here, even amongst us teenagers. It is _ so _ hard, being English in a place where we are seen as prey. I always have to watch my back, I always have to make sure that I am not going to get beaten up or something, and all because of my stupid nationality. I mean, how bad must it have been here—be here—for me to have gone to an all-girls school because they were worried about my what my situation could have been like at a boys school?” He scoffed slightly. “I don’t _ like _ the fact that we are in the middle of a civil war. I don’t _ want _ us to be in the middle of a civil war. Why can’t we just be civil to _ each other?! _I don’t hate Catholics or Protestants or whatever people call us. I just want it all to stop!” 

Erin stared at James, wide-eyed. He had never been so vocal about anything like that before. Now and then his anger and annoyance would slip through, but never that much. Usually, it was her job to do the controversial rambling. 

“That is a good way to think about it,” said Erin after a long moment, “and I feel the same way,” she added under her breath. She inclined her head to the side as they turned another corner, gesturing in the right direction. They still had a ways until they reached the school, but she didn’t mind. She hardly ever got to have a decent, mature conversation like this with anyone, especially an English fella. 

“It’s the factual way. There are two sides to every story—I’m sure you know that. Orla’s read me enough of your diary.” 

Erin’s stomach flipped and she stopped abruptly. “Orla _ what _ ?” She clenched her fists and bit hard on the insides of her cheeks in vexation. _ Christ, James Maguire reading her diary? _The very thought made her want to boke. 

James giggled. “I’m only teasing you.” 

Erin let out a sigh of relief, and punched James in the arm playfully. He laughed again, and for some odd reason, it sent tingles down Erin’s spine.

“Come on, we are going to be late,” James said. Erin knew that, but she wanted to prolong the walk as much as she could. This was nice. Fun, even. 

“Be honest, though,” Erin replied, “has Orla been reading through my diary again? I thought I hid it away from her.” 

James shrugged lazily. He obviously knew the answer, but he doubtlessly had some sort of pact with Orla and was forbidden to tell Erin. “Orla is Orla. She is strange, but no one said she wasn’t smart.” 

Erin made a face and curled her lip. “Yeah, evidently.” 

“Isn’t that Orla’s dress you’re wearing now? It looks much more comfortable than your blue gown.” James gestured at her yellow and white outfit. Erin looked down. “Oh, this? No, this is mine. Orla and I used to wear matching Easter frocks when we were wee.”

James chuckled for a long moment. Erin scowled; she knew what he was thinking. Her entire childhood consisted of what James’s thoughts were now. “That,” he said through convulsions of laughter, “is the most adorable thing...I have ever heard of...you and Orla…” He dissolved into more giggles, his green eyes glittering. 

Erin rolled her eyes, but for some reason she wasn’t as irritated by his rhapsodising as she was by the old couples from Church who gushed and crooned over her and her cousin when they were little. Erin had always hated being called “cute” or “precious” or something of the like. But when James did it, she liked it. He did it as a friend.

_Friend. _

_ Yes, Erin, James is her friend. Stop acting so surprised. _ Erin scolded herself. But still, she never thought that she was ever going to be friends with someone British. _ You’re being prejudice, and isn’t prejudice the thing you hate, you hypocrite? _

She looked at him again, at his perfect, sunny smile, his light brown curls, his shining eyes, and her heart leaped. She had felt this way a couple times before and she knew what was happening. _ Oh, God. _ She could feel the skip in her step, a smile tugging at her lips. The feeling was invading her, attacking her. She desperately wanted to stop it, but at the same time, she let the emotion wash over her body like a tide oversand. The question wouldn’t stop ringing in her mind. The more she looked at him, the more she pondered her feelings—and yet she didn’t dare look away. She wanted to kick herself a million times over. Why did she have to have a crush? Why did it have to be now, and why did it have to be James Maguire? And, why, God, _ why _ did she have to fall so _ helplessly _ in love with him, so _ bloody _fast? 

_ Christ, what would Michelle say? _Erin questioned in her mind. She could see their conversation playing out already: 

_ “Michelle, I have a crush on your cousin. Your English cousin.” _

_ “Fuck me, you’re not serious.” _

_ “Honest to God, Michelle.” _

_ “Christ. WELL, EVERYONE, ERIN QUINN IS IN LOVE WITH MY ENGLISH PRICK OF A COUSIN! WHADDAYA SAY TO THAT, MOTHERFUCKAHS?!” _

She almost buried her face in her hands just imagining Michelle prancing around the hallways at school. Erin would be lying if she said that she didn’t love Michelle with all of her heart, but she couldn’t let her know—she couldn’t let anyone know. She trusted her friends with her life, but there were some things that even the best of friends never shared. Throughout the years of the girl's friendship, they had always sworn to share who their crush was, but Erin wanted to keep this one a secret. Not just because he was James, but, well...she wasn’t at all saying that she wouldn’t spill the news to them at some point, things always got out eventually—but not yet. Erin wanted to give it a little time before she let the word loose. 

James finally managed to calm himself down, and once he did, he turned to Erin. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed that they had arrived at Our Lady Immaculate. There was a faint thumping coming from inside that Erin guessed was the music. James had led her along the entire way there, and she had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t been paying attention. She didn’t even know that he knew the way to the school. The low, muffled beat of fifties rock could be heard from outside, but she didn’t want to go in just yet. James started to nudge the door open with his shoulder, but she pulled him back by his wrist. 

“Wait,” Erin called. James turned, smirking kindly. “Yes?” 

“Thank you,” Erin said, looking down at her shoes. She felt James take a step toward her, and she almost took a step back. _ Almost. _

“Of course, Erin. Anytime you need. Thank you for walking with me.” 

Erin felt herself glow with happiness. “Anytime you need,” she echoed. She inched closer to him until she could feel his breath on her cheeks. She ran her fingers along his scarf and stood on her toes slightly, so they were eye-to-eye. 

“Is there something else you want to say?” he whispered hoarsely. It wasn’t a pressing question, and Erin didn’t feel pressured to answer, but the way he looked at her, the way they slowly were pulled closer together by a seemingly invisible string...she couldn't not answer him. 

Erin was quiet for a moment. “I don’t like John Paul,” she murmured. “I like—I love— you, James.” 

James cocked his head to the side in gentle affection. He took a lock of her blonde hair and twirled it around his forefinger. Her heart fluttered inside of her chest. _ What was he doing? _ But she had the feeling that she already knew where this was headed. And she did nothing to stop it. 

“Do you want to know something funny?” James asked quietly. Erin gazed at him. Part of his face was hidden in the shadows of the building and part was illuminated by the street lights. He reached for her hand and linked their fingers together. Erin squeezed his hand and moved her toes behind her opposite ankle, her foot resting just a couple inches above the damp pathway. 

“I guess,” she replied. James gently wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Erin gasped slightly, but didn’t fight the action. She felt her eyes close as James pressed a soft, flawless kiss onto her cheek. Erin giggled softly and beamed brightly. She looked around, just to make sure that there was no one in sight. They were the only two out there. The rain was beginning to pick up to a hard drizzle. They would have to go inside in a moment, but not just yet. James was silent, staring intently at her. Erin could feel her heart pounding in anticipation. He opened his mouth, and in a barely audible whisper, he said: “I love you too.”

Erin’s heart soared, and she let out a hearty laugh that carried around them. She gasped in delight as James lifted her off of her feet twirling her around as though they were in some cliché romance film. She could almost hear the crescendo of an orchestra swell around them. Her baby yellow dress danced and twirled around her hips as a soft breeze blew through the air. She wondered if small pink hearts were going to appear above both of them. Probably not. But everything about the moment screamed blissful exhilaration. She never wanted it to end. James set her back down, kissing her once again, much longer this time, and on the lips. Erin couldn’t wipe the grin away from her face. 

“But please,” she said seriously, but still smiling. “Don’t tell Michelle.” 

James made a face as if to say, “Seriously, do you honestly think I would be stupid enough to do _ that? _

“Of course not,” he then said aloud, “I am not telling anyone. It can be our little secret.” 

“Our little secret,” Erin repeated, liking the ring it had. Erin had shared many secrets amongst her friends, but never had she done it before with a boy. She liked every bit of it. 

“Let’s go. They’ll be wondering where you are,” James said. Erin nodded, and he opened the door for her, bowing slightly. She giggled and sighed, still glowing. Then James followed suit, both of them listening to the jazzy music, the warm fuzzy feeling from their kiss lingering with them. And as Erin walked over to her friends, her arm still looped through James’s, she couldn’t help thinking that perhaps this evening wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Not so bad after all...oh, Erin, if only you knew...  
Anyway, THANK YOU a ton for reading! Any of your feedback would make me so happy, but then again, the fact that you just read the fic is awesome. I hope you liked it, and there will be more stories to come!


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